162 AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY. 



THE SILENT CEDAR BIRDS. 

 By Mrs. Charles Norman. 



It is a thrilling event to any lover of nature when a wild creature ap- 

 proaches him and shows no fear ; and though we court the chipping sparrows 

 and chickadees and beguile them with tidbits many days, there is always a, 

 sensation of delight when they touch. our hands or even come near us. But 

 the beautiful, the unfamiliar, the dignified cedar waxwings — uncourted, un- 

 moved by a desire for food or by any sense of comradeship, who can describe 

 the feeling when they first approach us? Who can make plain the condi- 

 tions of a friendship, extremely intimate and yet reserved and cold? 



Such was Our acquaintance with a pair of birds, who appeared quite un- 

 expectedly one morning and began tugging at the cord which held the wood- 

 bine to the veranda. They were cedar waxwings or cherry birds, a species not 

 very common in our locality, so we enthusiastically endeavored to supply 

 their wants with a promiscuous lot of strings. It was our intention to hide 

 close by and watch maneuvers, but they did not give us time, but returned 

 while we were still engaged in festooning the cords. One of the birds paused 

 upon the fence, close by, the other came within a foot of our hands and 

 quickly bounded off with a string. Her destination was an apple tree just 

 across the street. She was soon back for another beakful. 



It was June 1-1, about 9 a. m., when operations began, and for an hour 

 thereafter they kept us busy supplying strings for their prospective dwell- 

 ing. Suddenly they were satisfied and flew away to the swamp. 



I have, inadvertently, used the feminine pronoun in refering to that one 

 of the pair who carried all the material for building. This may be an 

 error. I could see no difference in the birds, but one did all the work and 

 the other one took the role of protector. He was the escort on all expedi- 

 tions. They flew side by side, very close together, as if the upper air furn- 

 ished too narrow a passage. When they alighted, it was usually side by side. 

 After our first exciting encounter with them, and their departure, we 

 walked across to inspect their nest, which was on an exposed branch of the 

 apple tree. There seemed to be nothing there but the bits of string, and 

 these were in about the same order as when they hung upon the railing. The 

 birds had taken all the white and green cord and left all the red and pink. 



We added two large handfuls of hair combings, a bunch of cotton, a few 

 straws and more and more string, till the end of the veranda looked any- 

 thing but respectable. All were untouched until about four o'clock, and 

 then began another lively scramble for material. This time we took chairs 



